


flushed cheeks and beer-flavoured words

by t92791141



Category: Faust - Fandom, Faust - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Genre: Confessions, Drunken Confessions, M/M, Suicide mentions, i still don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 04:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t92791141/pseuds/t92791141
Summary: Faust has very low alcohol resistance, worse, he gets sad when drunk, even worse, Mephistopheles has very little patience.





	flushed cheeks and beer-flavoured words

Wandering from alley to alley, making his way between the bodies of drunk men and vagabonds asking for spare change, Mephistopheles could hear the sudden bursts of laugher, smell the alcohol spilled on the grounds, and feel on his feet the turmoil coming from inside the pubs. He wondered if his appearance blended with the chaotic atmosphere of saturday's nights. It's been two weeks since the demon went up from hell to earth and still he couldn't fully enjoy the pleasures of getting surrounded of the kind of humans that would congregate in taverns to forget all their responsabilities, or otherwise, to fervently complain about them. They moaned about their everyday work, about their wives, their sons and daughters, about their peers and kin in a struggle to do catharsis and with a long sigh let go all of the poison that a regular working man could accumulate after a week of hard, tough labor. Mephisto obviously didn't have to work, the skin of his hands were soft and his long nails meticulously taken care of, he could let his hair grow long and either tie it or let it fall down in beautiful curls. He was given a rather attractive human body, and he dressed it in sharp, formal clothing as Faust did. Yes, Mephisto and Faust both looked very out of place in a horde of big strong workers, but the demon didn't give up. It wasn't too much of a deal anyways. Both of them would attract some curious glances, but it seems that people from higher classes infiltrating the slums during the nights to get a little bit of fun were already a thing, because they both crossed path with some of them in a couple of opportunities.

Faust, by the demon's side, wasn't paying that much attention to the things that were happening on his surroundings. Not even in his own body. He was dragging his legs on the cobblestone streets, therefore almost stumbling if it wasn't for Mephisto that was carrying him from underneath his shoulder, with certain annoyance. Mephisto thought since the first day of their deal that it was a good idea to get Faust out of his house and go get drunk, since alcohol always helps dismantling the barriers and filters that humans build with the bricks and cloths of holy morality, letting all primal desires and impulses run free inside the head and fighting to break through bone, muscle and skin to get to control the entire body like a puppet, making men do the most silly and innocent acts, to the most repudiable and vulgar indecencies. However, for some reason in the moment that the first drop of alcohol entered Faust's bloodstream, he would get rather depressed. He would start complaining, moaning like a sad dog, then he would knead on his eyelids trying to hide the first tears, and with the third jar of beer the tears would fall down like waterfalls, moaning with drool falling down the corners of his mouth, slamming his forehead into the table, making a whole scene in the place, attracting uncalled attention which made Mephistopheles very uncomfortable. He had to take him out of the pub, pulling him by his arm and almost dragging him on the floor while the poor man cried something among the lines of ''Let me go, let me go, let me die squirming like the worm I am!''

Maybe those scenes would have been a whole show to the demon if it wasn't for the shame that he had to endure in public, and Faust's mood when suffering from hangovers. Mephistopheles started to worry, crossing out on a mental annotation the first and most classic option to introduce a man to hedonism. Beers don't arouse Faust's senses, they get him sad and make him want to die, and that was a big problem. Maybe dealing with this man would be much more work that he thought.

Mephistopheles pondered and pondered during his hike alongside a crying Faust. The demon could ignore the sobs coming from the man, but when he started to raise the volume of the words coming out, monologizing chapters of his past life, Mephisto just couldn't bear the dramatic, brittle tone of his voice. Immediatly the man would get heavier, his body didn't collaborate with Mephisto's support, he wiped his tears and snot on the demon's coat and this drove him insane. Faust then was let to land on the floor, Mephisto screamed at him while he tried to soothe the pain on the sore arm that was holding the drunk man. All of this noise drawn the attention of a lot of people trying to sleep inside their houses, some of them would open the windows to shut the two men up.

''Let me go, just let me go, I want to die here!''

''Die then, kill yourself. Or you don't even have the courage to do that? Pathetic! Die drowning in your own sorrows as the pathetic, pitiful man that you are.''

That way Mephistopheles left behind Faust, sighing, holding his temples with his index and middle finger trying to calm the tension provoked by the recent outrage. It was supposed that Mephisto had to be patient with people like Faust, to take their feelings of grief and turn them into insatiable desire, and make them fall more and more deep into the luxuries of egoism... But Mephisto just felt hopeless when he was by the side of this man, at least on moments like these.

Despite this last scene, Mephistopheles more or less knew what would happen after this. After some audible steps, Faust would approach Mephisto, crawling like a child on the cold floor, and weeping he would say something like...

''M-Mephistopheles, hic- Wait for me. Don't leave me alone.''

Exactly, something like that. Mephisto took a deep breath before interrumpting his walk and turned his head around a little to glance at Faust. He thought he looked funny trying to straighten on the floor and failing the task, falling on his knees and complaining about the pain with more tears falling down his cheeks. It was almost like he was exaggerating every reaction to get Mephisto's help. The man kept trying and trying until Mephisto approached him and offered his hand, which Faust gripped on as if he was clinging to life. The demon couldn't help smiling when he saw him acting this way, Faust really is like a child, gripping on his cloth, on his arm and hands, crying over his shoulder. After an outburst of anger Mephistopheles could see the same things with different eyes, and maybe even feeling a little bit of tenderness for the man -the kind of tenderness that one feels when witnessing how pathetic and helpless a human being can be, obviously-. That way, after the previous harsh exchange of words, now Faust was silent as if he was just scolded, but his lips were trembling, and Mephisto could see the words hanging from them, while Faust was waiting for an opportunity to open his mouth and say wathever he needed to say.

''Go ahead, Faust, what do you have to tell me?

''Mephistopheles... D-Do you really want me to die?

The demon chuckled, he locked his eyes with Faust. ''I never said that I wanted you to die.''

''But you told me to die... If I was about to kill myself, would you stop me?''

''I already stopped you one, I could do that again. It would be a total waste to go to hell without experiencing heaven on earth with the services you bought with your very own soul, wouldn't it, Faust? You can say that you're already lost... But you can get so much joy and pleasure from this deal. Make your suffering worth.''

Faust glanced at his shoes, frowning, trying to understand what the demon just said with very little success. Still, the first sentence resonated within his heart, making him remember events from a couple of days in the past but that felt like they have happened so long ago. Mephistopheles entered his life when he was about to end it, offering him a second opportunity. It was like destiny was already written for him. He would either enter hell after suicide, or after dealing with the devil. The good thing is that having Mephistopheles by his side, the outcome of things didn't even matter to him, as he could taste the joys of carefree youth that he never got to experience on his past life.

Mephistopheles noticed the grin on Faust's face and how the tears were about to fall down again, now making their way on two rosy cheeks.

''Aw, what happened? Did I say something that you didn't like, Fau-''

''I'm so happy, M-Mephistopheles.'' The man interrumpted. Mephisto looked at him with curious eyes, and Faust kept talking. ''You are so good to me. I-I wish I have met you sooner, maybe that way I wouldn't have had such a sad lonely life... Y-You are, hic- the only friend I have, Mephistopheles.''

Mephistopheles had an expression of pure perplexity, unable to breathe until he let go all the air inside his lungs with a burst of laugher that echoed into the clouds that coated the sky above them. Friend? Why did Faust consider Mephistopheles, the demon that he offered his soul to, future owner of all his sorrows, misfortunes and regrets, a friend? It was so ridiculous, silly and adorable to hear the man talk without a single drop of shame about such innocent feelings that Mephistopheles just had to accept without a complain, even welcoming them all, embracing Faust firmly, sinking his claws in his hair, bringing him close until he was resting his head on the demon's chest in a hurry to pacify the crying man. Mephistopheles could feel a perverse joy during that situation, while trying to soothe the man that, sooner or later, was going to perish between his hands. His smile was full of wickedness while Faust hid his face on the demon's neck. Everything was so tragic and romantic under the moonlight. Maybe that scene would've been perfect if Faust didn't reek of beer, but Mephisto could make the effort to ignore that.

Faust separated from him when his tears ceased to fall, but he couldn't face the demon, his eyes wandered on all places but Mephisto's face. His cheeks were burning and his fingers, still resting on the demon's chest, were shaking. Surely the effects Faust was under just some moments ago lowered enough to make him feel a little bit embarassed about everything he has said and done. And yes, he indeed felt humilliated, but what made him the most uncomfortable was the way Mephisto reciprocated and tried to calm him down. Mephisto saw the shame lingering on Faust's eyes, and he was again striked with this irresistible fondness for the sad, shy human that was in front of him.

''Whats wrong, Faust? Did you say something that you weren't supposed to say?

Mephistopheles, waiting patiently for the answer, fixed his hair tying it, moving away some disheveled curls from his face. Then, he loosened up the first button from his shirt in an attempt to freshen up. He would lie if he said that he didn't feel a little bit hot after such moment of euphoria.

''No... I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine, Mephisto. Thank you for listening to me... T-Thank you for not leaving me alone.''

''Even if you wanted to get rid of me at all costs, I would still follow you to the end of the world, Faust.''

Mephistopheles always said things that Faust didn't know how to interpret, he didn't know if he should take his words as compliments or as threats. Anyways, the thought of having the demon always by his side for some reason made him feel a little warm inside, maybe because it soothed all the feelings of loneliness that Faust was carrying from all the years he lived alone between books. He finally smiled, and that was the only answer the demon was expecting.

Now, almost sobered up, Faust retrieved all the sensitivity on his limbs and could balance himself on the ground perfectly. Still he insisted on walking arm-in-arm with Mephistopheles all his way home. The road little by little got more quiet, the sky cleared up and the moon shone beautifully over them. No one said a word, Faust was now sleepy and Mephisto could concentrate and think clearly. He reached the conclusion that he might not make Faust a slave for the pleasures of the simplest and lowest forms of hedonism, but he could make Faust a slave of the love he felt for him. It might grow bigger and bigger, it might grow uncontrollably and Mephisto could make it even worse. He was so excited, he could hear and feel his heart beating hard, and without noticing it he strengthened the grip around Faust's arm. Now the demon was the one getting drunk thinking of such scenario, and while he was gone exploring all the possible outcomes, Faust looked at the demon in hopes of asking him why the sudden pressure on his arm and why the shaky breaths, and he encountered an expression that left him terrified and that would appear countless times in his worst nightmares.

**Author's Note:**

> Something short. I wanted to write this scenario for a long time and I finally I put myself to work -A- . Sorry if I made Faust seem a little bit out of character-ish, I like imagining him on his first days together with Mephisto like a very shy stuttering man.... cute. Mephisto as always being a pervert who gets off at the thought of ruining Faust's life, woo!! I hope you enjoyed it ! <33


End file.
